Hogwarts: Deduced
by Simple Storyteller
Summary: Just as Boredom was slowly killing Sherlock Holmes, a strange man appeared and offered him a job in a whole new world filled with magic. Itching with excitement, Holmes drags Watson to Hogwarts, right into the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets.
1. Chapter 1: Eureka

First, Allow me to briefly explain a few things. The time of Sherlock has of course been altered to fit the timeline of Harry's second year at Hogwarts. Also, i would like to say that this Sherlock is a mixture of Canon Sherlock, Guy Ritchies Sherlock, and BBC's Sherlock. Watson is a mixture of Guy Ritchies and Canon Sherlock. Thats really all there is to say other then ENJOY!

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><p><span>Chapter 1: Eureka<span>

It was hard to not to pinch myself, and see if I woke up from a dream. For this had to be a dream, looking across the room and Seeing Sherlock Holmes, the greatest and only consultant detective, stand in front of a class and teach. And when I use the word teach, I use it lightly, for Holmes was using unconventional means of teaching. Which seemed appropriate, giving the school we are in, and of course given the man Holmes is.

In the past month my sense of reality had been shattered not once, but twice. And I was positive that as soon as I redeveloped a new reality to sit comfortably in, it shall once again be shattered, crumbling to dust on the wind. Though it is to be expected when you are suddenly thrust into the world of Magic, with none other than Sherlock Holmes.

Allow me to explain, as I set the scene to exactly one month earlier.

Mrs. Hudson had gone out for groceries, much to the pleasure of my friend, who often found her distracting and naggy. Though I secretly suspect Sherlock has a certain fondness of our landlady. I was down in the dining room, reading the paper, while the telly was on one of the news channels. Holmes was up locked in his room doing God only knows what to relieve his boredom. I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for my companion, as he hadn't had any new cases in five weeks.

My eyes scanned the paper, looking for some type of crime that Sherlock would be able to enjoy, but alas, there was absolutely nothing of interest. And though most of London was relieved at this fact, Holmes couldn't be any more upset. Sherlock was not a fan of peace and order, it bored him to no end. And when Holmes was bored, both Mrs. Hudson and I couldn't help but fear for the condition of this house.

"Oh Watson, what has this fair city come to?" I looked up from the paper, and saw the solemn figure of Sherlock Holmes, dragging himself to the table. "No kidnappings. No serial killings. No cults running around the streets sacrificing innocent bystanders. Is there no mercy for me?"

I grinned slightly at Holmes, amused by his groaning, and passed him the paper. "Here, entertain yourself with this before you feel the need to set the curtains on fire again."

"It was a necessary experiment to test an invention I was creating." Holmes replied in a matter-of-fact voice, accepting the paper and scanning through it. "I was developing flame resistant curtains, how was I supposed to know if they were flame resistant if I didn't try to light them on fire." Sherlock turned the page of the paper, staring at it intently. "Please Watson, think a little."

I rolled my eyes at the detective, and turned my attention to the telly, as the newswoman started to talk about the President of America requesting a meeting with the Prime Minister. I was intrigued by the story, however both the story and the newspaper frustrated Holmes. "To hell with them! What good is the Prime Minister or the President when there is peace?"

Holmes crumpled up the paper, and threw it at the telly, causing me to raise an eyebrow at the outburst. But before I had a chance to comment about it, there was a knock at the door. I frowned, looking at Holmes who had token my cup of tea, and sipping it, muttering under his breath as he glared at the telly. "Please Watson can you go get that?" Holmes asked, not looking at me, after the the person knocked once again.

I nodded, and stood up, praying that it was Inspector Lastarde with a case for Holmes. But when I opened the door, it was an older gentleman, with a long white beard, half-mooned spectacles, and sparkling blue eyes. The old man was smiling gently at me, and I couldn't help but take a liking to the man.

However, what he was wearing caught my attention, and I found it most strange. The elder gentleman was wearing a purple robe, and a pointed hat that could only be described as a wizard's hat. As I took in the man's appearance, I couldn't help but think Holmes might have his cultist yet.

"Sherlock Holmes?" The man asked, though something in his voice made me think that he knew I was not the man he was looking for.

"Doctor John Watson actually." I said with a smile, and I stepped aside, to allow the man into the house. "Sherlock Holmes is in the dining room just to your right."

The older man smiled, thanking me and began to make his way into the house, looking around as he did so. "You have a wonderful house, Doctor." The man said, "Though, and I hope you don't mind me saying, a bit mundane."

I frowned at the man, who was obviously lacking in manners, but before I could inform him of this, a monotone voice was heard.

"I agree, however the fine Doctor and Mrs. Hudson refuse to allow me decorate any part of the house, other than my own quarters. " Sherlock Holmes was leaning against the wall, looking down as he was lighting his pipe. "I believe they are too afraid of the outcome, a logical reason." Sherlock flashed me a smile, before walking towards the man, extending his arm.

"Sherlock Holmes, at your service."

The man chuckled at Holmes, and accepted the hand, shaking it. "Professor Albus Dumbledore, though I would prefer if you called me either Albus or Dumbledore, now, shall we sit?"

The Professor gestured to the sofa near us, and while I was once again going to call him out on his rudeness, Sherlock just nodded, and took the seat opposite to the sofa. Dumbledore sat down, and then looked towards me. "Doctor, would you mind fetching some tea?"

I frowned at the man, but once again, before I could say anything, Sherlock interrupted me. "Oh please do Watson, and make sure it isn't the rubbish I was just drinking."

I glared at the two, "You know I am not your butler Holmes."

Sherlock looked at me as if I just said something stupid. "Well of course not Watson. You are way too unqualified to be a butler. For instance you are lacking in pose and dignity. Plus you, as stated before, are rubbish at making a proper cup of tea."

I bit my tongue, quite use to the treatment, and I walked into the kitchen, trying to calm not become as agitated as I would, and began to make some tea. While I did so, I strained my ears to hear the conversation of the two in the other room. But I could only catch little snippets of the conversation. Soon the tea was ready, and I poured it into two cups, prepared the tray, and brought it out to Holmes and our guest.

"Now, Professor, you have yet to tell me how you arrived here." As I entered the room I saw Holmes leaning forward, hands pressed together, as if he was trying to solve a great mystery. "You show no signs of travel in your robes – Ah, thank you Watson – there are no creases that would have occurred if you were just in a cab. However it appears as if you did not walk much either, for it has been lightly drizzling for an hour or so now – Oh Watson, this tea is much, much better – and yet you are relatively dry."

Professor Dumbledore was smiling, amused at Sherlock, and I couldn't help but share in Sherlock's inquiries. I sat down next to the Professor, awaiting the answer.

Dumbledore took his time, sipping on his tea, before he finally spoke, slowly. "Mr. Holmes… What I am about to reveal to you is illegal, dangerous, and slightly tabooed. But what I have to say is true, I can prove it easily. All I ask is you keep an open mind."

I looked at Sherlock, utterly confused. My companion however, still had his hands pressed together and leaned even father forward, interest and excitement dancing in his eyes. The Professor obviously took this as a go-on sign, and continued his speech.

"I know you are a man of logic and science, Mr. Holmes, and will refuse to believe me at first. But my arriving here had to do with magical means." I glanced at Sherlock, who gave a snort of disbelief, and began to lean back in his chair. The professor continued as if Holmes made no reaction to this whatsoever.

"The Magical World does exist, and we hide right under your nose. We've existed as long as you muggles, non-magical beings, have. Yet kept our existence a secret."

I couldn't believe what utter Nonsense this man was saying. Magical world, muggles, did he even hear himself? It was ludicrous, and I couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the old man. This defiantly explained his cloths. I glanced at Sherlock, who was boredly sipping his tea, obviously having lost interest. The Professor, however, just smiled at us. And then occurred the event that first shattered my entire perception of reality.

With a small popping noise, Dumbledore vanished completely.

I gave a shout of surprise, and scrambled back, falling off the couch onto the floor. Sherlock however sat up straight, eyes wide. He reached for a book, and tossed it at the spot where Dumbledore was sitting seconds ago. The book just landed with a soft thud.

A chuckle was heard from the other side of the room, making me jump to my feet, and Sherlock eyes darted franticly around.

"Do you believe me now, Mr. Holmes?"

My heart was racing. How was all of this possible? Dumbledore had… just vanished. Sherlock suddenly stood up, and walked to the far corner of the room, and held out his hand to what appeared to be thin air. I stared, confused, but with another small, popping noise, Dumbledore appeared in front of Holmes, shaking his hand with a look of surprise. "I will listen." Holmes said, staring Dumbledore in the eyes, a grin spreading across his face.

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><p>"Wait let me get this straight… You want Sherlock Holmes, to teach a class in your magical school?" I asked, shock on my face. "Sherlock, teach children? Are you sure about this?"<p>

After Dumbledore had reappeared, and Sherlock explained to me how obvious it was wear the professor was due to footprints on the carpet (Bloody footprints) The Professor Had explained to us about his school, Hogwarts. The Professor also asked Sherlock if he would start a class for a few specifically chosen students. This I could not believe. I could no way in any shape or form imagine Sherlock, the high-functioning Sociopath teaching children.

"Oh please pay attention Watson, must he repeat everything twice?" Sherlock said in an annoyed voice, rolling his eyes, before looking at Dumbledore, leaning forward. "Enlighten me; what could I possibly be able to teach witches and wizards?"

Dumbledore smiled, and spread out his hands in front of him. "Why the Art of Deduction Mr. Holmes. You are the best at what you do, better than any wizard or muggle. And I find a few of my students would be in need of your tutelage." Dumbledore then gestured at me. "And of course Doctor Watson may be your assistant in the class."

I stared wide-eyed, still in awe at the revealing of magic, and glanced at Sherlock, who was frowning in concentration, smoking his pipe and blowing out smoke. "What privileges do I have if I accept?"

Dumbledore smiled once again, and answered. "You will have the right to give detentions as you see fit, as well as take or give points to different houses, a system I will explain later on. As well, I am going to allow you early entrance into Hogwarts so that you may indulge in our vast library. "

Sherlock eyes were wild with excitement, I could see that, and I was already starting to know what he would choose. "Sherlock, what about Lastrade? What if he needs your help with a crime?"

Sherlock dismissed the idea with his hand, "The Inspector can handle himself without me for a while. And if he can't he will have to make do." Holmes then looked at Dumbledore. "Can you take me there now? To your school?"

Dumbledore nodded with a smile, and I couldn't believe it. Sherlock was set on this. And of course he would be dragging me into it as well. Though I couldn't deny that I was intrigued by this… this world of magic.

Sherlock abruptly stood, "Well then, Professor, I agree. I will teach your prize little pupils for you. Now can you please wait outside for me as I prepare to depart to your school."

Dumbledore stood as well, and smiled. "Excellent Mr. Holmes. And I shall be waiting outside for you, please don't dawdle. It's been a pleasure meeting you Doctor, and I can't wait for the school year." The Wizard nodded at me, and then walked out the door. I looked at Sherlock, who stood composed, watching the door slowly shut…

"Yes! Whoo! Finally!" I was startled by the excited outburst from Holmes, as he ran around the house, grabbing various things. "Something interesting has happened. A whole new world at my fingertips, all mine to explore and to deduce. Watson its Christmas!"

I stared wide-eyed as Holmes rushed about, a small suitcase in his hand. "Now Watson, I will be back before the school year begins to retrieve you."

"Sherlock! You can't be serious about this?" I said, finally finding my voice, as Sherlock began to towards the door. "What about your work here, at London?"

"Forget London." Sherlock cried over his shoulder, reaching for the door. "Watson a whole new magical world! London is a bore compared to what awaits me at this school!" He opened the door, turning around and giving me one of his rare, big grins.

"My dear Watson, the game is afoot!"

And as the door closed behind the great Detective, our journey into the Magical world was beginning.


	2. Chapter 2: Unorthodox

Hello all! I am so sorry for the very long Hiatus. I kinda forgot about this. Heh... sorry. Anyways here you are, and I really quite like this chapter. I think its one of my best. Now I apologies for any spelling or grammatical mistakes. Anyways, let me know what you think of it. :) And I promised the next chapter will be up soon. Maybe... More then likely... ENJOY!

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing in this.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: <strong>Unorthodox

"Sherlock, are you sure you know where we are even going?"

I pushed our luggage cart as I followed the man, trying with all I might not to lose my friend. Sherlock himself strode through the crowed with purpose, barely noticing the crowed at all. The detective had recently returned to 221B Baker Street to 'collect' me. By recently, I mean a couple hours ago. And by collect me, I mean drag me unwillingly away from the beautiful, normal science filled life I enjoyed and into the unknown dangers of magic.

However, I digress.

I had almost forgotten about the strange professor's visit over the past month, being able to push it from my mind. I fell back into the mundane lifestyle I have when Sherlock is not dragging me with him on a case. And it felt like complete bliss, the only reminder of the magical world being the absence of Sherlock. His absence, however, is something that… disturbs me.

These past years I have grown rather fond of Sherlock, he is my closest friend, and though it doesn't appear so, I know he feels the same towards me. I have grown use to the odd sounds I would hear echoing out of his room. As well as the sound of his muttering as he paced about the house. I am far to use to the pointless, often meaningless experiments the man starts when he is bored. They became the normal to me, they were my comfort sounds at time, such as the beating of a mother's heartbeat is comfort to a child. To have that ripped from my world so suddenly… well it felt like the time I believed I had lost Sherlock forever.

When Sherlock strode through the door this morning, I had the huge urge to embrace the man. However, I resisted the urge and instead shook his hand, patted him on the shoulder, and rolled my eyes when he told me to prepare all my things so we could depart into the fascinating world of magic. I again attempted to tell Sherlock off about abandoning his duty to London, however I had shut up when he pointed out I was readily doing the same. He of course saw my things already packed in the corner of the den. After a good smack on the head, I went to go call a cab while Sherlock hastily prepared his own belongings.

Now here we were, at the King's Cross, trying to find the train to take us to this school for witches and wizards. And I will readily admit I was somewhat disappointed at the transportation. I had spent all today concocting marvelous ways on how we would enter into this world. Like rising out of flame, or on brooms or a flying carpet. For it to be something so human saddened me slightly.

"Of course I do Watson, do you take me as a fool?"

I bit my tongue as I rolled my eyes, deciding best not to answer this one. "Well then tell me, oh great one, which platform we are to get on so I can rid myself of this horrid cart."

"I sense a tad of sarcasm." Sherlock stated, looking back over his shoulder at me with a raised eyebrow. He then turned back around, continuing on his quest to find the platform. "No mater, the platform is 9 and ¾. It should be around here…"

I raised an eyebrow. Platform 9 and ¾? There was no such thing. However, I stayed quiet. This was magic, and I had to slowly accept the possibility of things not being as they appear. However, I was positive that I would have an impossible difficulty doing that. Sherlock once again looked back at me, raising an eyebrow once more.

"Well I must say I am impressed, doctor. No questions asked about this mysterious platform. I applaud your understanding of our current situation."

Sherlock flashed me a smile, before glancing at the watch on his wrist. He then began to speed up tremendously.

"Quicken your pace Watson, our train leaves in four minutes."

My eyes widened, and quickly matched his pace, the trolley making it only slightly difficult. "What? Sherlock if you knew that the train was leaving at this time, why did we prepare such an elaborate lunch for ourselves before we left? I am sure they would have served us food on the train!"

Sherlock stopped next to a column and looked at me with a face that he made when I have 'offended' him in some way. "Excuse me for wanting to spend one last fine meal in the world of the mundane for several months." He sniffed, "I will try to be less sentimental next time."

I rolled my eyes at him, getting irritated. "Since when have you been sentimental about anything in anyway? And why have we stopped, we are going to miss our train."

Sherlock dropped his undignified look and grinned at me, something I found quite unnerving. He pulled out a amulet of some kind and tossed it to me.

"Place that on, quickly Watson."

I caught it with one hand and did so, as Sherlock quickly explained.

"You see, platform 9 and ¾ is located between platform nine, and ten. Ingenious really. There is a passageway hidden to our eyes that the magical world uses. The amulet's I have given you will allow us passage in that said passage way."

It sounded like nonsense to me, but as was the way with magic, so I accepted the explanation and leaned forward on the trolley.

"So Where is this mysterious passage way?

Sherlock moved to my side quickly and pointed his hand to a rather large family full of red heads and one raven-haired boy. "Observe Doctor."

I watched the family fuss about with amusement. Surely, Sherlock was distracting me with this family while he pulled the ace up his sleeve and revealed the passageway. I took notice of the beautiful snowy owl the raven-haired boy had, and wondered where he bought the amazing creature.

I then frowned however, when two of the members of the family began to run straight at the brick column we were standing near. They had to be mad, what on earth were these people thinking. I went to take a step forward to stop this, but Sherlock held me back, so I stood waiting for the inevitable crash.

Yet instead of a crash, something miraculous happened. They vanished.

My eyes were as wide as possible, and belief coursed through me. Soon the next two ran through the wall, and I glanced back at Sherlock who was grinning. When I looked back, it was only the raven-haired boy with the owl, and his gingered companion. The two began to run at the wall, and I prepared myself for them to vanish.

Yet they crashed into the wall and spilled onto the floor.

I looked back at Sherlock, startled, and saw his grin vanished. He let go of me and strode towards the two boys, and I made haste to follow him.

"Lost control of the trolley." The raven-haired boy gasped at the guard who was glaring at the boys. The two got up, and the raven-haired boy hissed something to the redhead. I stared at them, then looked over at the poor owl who was screeching as its master hurried to pick it up.

I looked at Sherlock now, who was examining the wall, tapping it, a frown gracing his face. I approached him as he tapped the wall.

"Watson something is wrong here." Sherlock muttered, taking a step from the wall and glancing at his watch. "The passageway shouldn't have closed yet. And our train is about to depart."

I just stood, stunned and unsure of what to say. I glanced at the two boys and saw them staring at us, with expectant, relieved faces. The Ginger made his way over to us quickly as the other darted to the bird on the floor, trying to calm it.

"You two are wizards?" The boy spoke silently, beaming. "You can Apparate us to Hogwarts right?"

I stared at the boy, unable to tell him I was a- what was it they called us? A Moogle? Unable to tell him I was not a warlock. However, I was saved from that pleasure by my always-tactful companion.

"You need to learn to observe more, boy." Sherlock said calmly as he stepped to my side, and raised an eyebrow down at the warlock. "If you took the time to look at the simple facts you would see my colleague and I are not wizards, yet Muggles."

I shot Sherlock a glare, not surprised he treated the boy coldly and was indifferent to the child's situation. I was about to tell Sherlock off when the raven-haired boy stepped up to defend his shocked friend.

"You were examining the wall though. Only Wizards know about the…." The boy looked around and lowered his voice. "The passage to platform nine and three quarters."

The ginger was nodding his head vigorously and Sherlock nodded his head as well, tapping a finger to his chin.

"Yes a good assumption, yet an assumption none the less. Assumptions without more sound facts will get you or others killed one day. Now if you took notice of our brand of clothing, or our luggage you will have had enough fact for your assumption Weasley." Sherlock looked at the Ginger, who eyes went wide, and took a step back.

"H-how do you know my name?" He demanded.

Sherlock quickly walked to the boy's luggage trolley and pointed at one of the trunks, the name 'Ron Weasly' written on it. I glanced at Ron, and noticed his ears were considerably red. I sympathized with the boy; Sherlock had a way with making everyone feel stupid.

"Now Harry, may I use your owl?" Sherlock looked at the Raven Haired boy, who looked surprised, then drew the cage closer to himself.

"What do you want with Hedwig?" He demanded, narrowing his eyes at Sherlock. Sherlock either didn't notice the look of distrust (Doubtful) or just didn't care (Very likely) and replied casually.

"I need to write a letter to the Headmaster explaining what has happen and ask him to send somebody to pick us up."

Harry looked surprised at first, and then gave a small smile. "Good idea, lets head outside then we can set her free with your letter."

Sherlock nodded, and turned to walk toward the exit of the train station, and I went to do the same, however Ron stopped us.

"Wait! If you are muggles, how do you know of the platform and Hogwarts?" Ron glared at us, and I felt a pang of sadness that he distrust us. However he brought up an excellent point.

"The Headmaster visited us around a month ago." I spoke, before Sherlock had the chance. "He explained to us that he needed my colleague's particular talent to teach a small group of warlocks." I nodded at Sherlock, "That's Sherlock Holmes, and I am Doctor John Watson."

Harry seemed to immediately relax when he heard my title, and I smiled slightly. Being a doctor has that effect on a few people. Ron, however, looked completely freaked out.

"Doctor!" He squealed, "you mean you are one of those nutters who like to cut blokes up for money?'

I frowned at this. Was this how wizards viewed muggle doctors? We are most certainly not nutters and I felt my face get hot with anger. However before I can scold the boy, Holmes interrupted with an impatient noise, and began to walk towards the exit. I looked at the two, and saw Harry himself was scolding Ron for the assumption. With a smile, I turned and began to push the trolley after Holmes, hearing the patting of feet and the boy's trolleys behind me.

It wasn't long before I, as well as the boys, was lugging our baggage outside, no longer having our trolleys, while Sherlock had the pleasure of only carrying the cloths on his back.

"We can wait by my car." Ron panted, managing to point out a simple little car. Sherlock glanced at it, then walked over and stood, waiting for us. I placed our bags down with a sigh, and the boys did the same. Sherlock proceeded to take out a pen, and then a piece of paper I have no idea why he randomly had.

The detective leaned on the car and began to write the note, and I glanced over at Ron and Harry, the former sitting down on one of his luggage, while the latter was taking the beautiful owl out of her cage and waiting for Sherlock to finish his letter.

I sighed and rummaged through my luggage and pulled out a book I have been attempting to finish. I tried to get into the book, yet I kept on overhearing the boys conversation.

"Sure lucky these two showed up."

"I guess…. Though that Sherlock guy is a bit of a git."

"Ron, be grateful."

"Wow you really sound like Hermione right now."

"Yeah right. Anyways I am glad they showed up. I thought we wouldn't be able to get to Hogwarts."

"Well I had a plan anyways. We could have easily flown the car to Hogwarts."

I looked up at these words, and stared at the two. Did Ron just say they would have flown their _car_ to the school? Ron was looking quite proud of himself, until he noticed I had overheard him, then his ears turned red.

"Intriguing."

I jumped at the voice, and looked over my shoulder and saw Sherlock, looking at Ron with curious expression. "This car is charmed to fly? Do you know how to fly it?"

Ron looked surprised at the question, and looked at his companion who was equally shocked. He turned back to Sherlock, and seemed to be considering his answer carefully.

"Suppose I did… would I get into trouble."

I looked at Sherlock, who was scribbling his note, and writing a new letter. "Watson, load our luggage in the trunk, Weasly, I assume this car had an invisibility charm as well, if not, you and Mr. Potter prepare to cast the charm. Potter, lend me your bird."

Harry, looking quite stun while Ron was looking ecstatic, offered the owl to Sherlock, who placed the piece of paper in her peak. The owl then took off and began to fly away. Ron was already in the front, Harry moving in the back, and Sherlock taking the passenger seat. And I still had many complaints.

"Sherlock! You cant be serious!"

Sherlock glanced out the window at me, raising an eyebrow. "And why not? We will reach the school much faster this way."

I stared wide-eyed at him, and then looked at the two boys, Harry being the only one who was looking hesitant.

I sighed however, and proceeded to lug the luggage in the trunk, then placed myself in the back next to Harry. I overheard Sherlock asking about the charms placed on the car, and Ron eagerly answer.

"You all set Watson?"

"I hate you." I grumbled in response.

"Jolly good! Mr. Weasly, if you please!"

Suddenly, everything vanished, turned invisible. I gave a cry of astonishment, and I heard Harry do the same. Then I felt the car rise in the air, and then take off into the sky.


End file.
